


Sharp and Glorious Thorn

by ghiblitears



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Humor, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Conflict Resolution, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hanahaki Disease, He gets better, Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, Love Languages, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghiblitears/pseuds/ghiblitears
Summary: "Welcome back to the House of Hades, where death is our business! What got you this time?" Hypnos asks only a moment before checking the list in his hands. He pauses. Squints, for good measure. "... All it says is 'roses'. Got any more details for me?"Zagreus shrugs. "Not unless you're familiar with deaths that involve coughing them up?"***A canonverse Hanahaki AU where, for once, dying isn't the finale.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 171





	1. Part I

Zagreus had thought he was used to dying until the petals started to show up. 

The whole thing began as just a slight ache in his chest — nothing that warranted more than a moment of passing attention as he fought his way out of the depths of Tartarus, slicing through shade and wretch alike. Briefly after crossing into Asphodel when it worsened into a stinging, scraping pain on every odd breath, he wondered if it was a side effect of the scorching heat and sudden change in climate — but no, it hadn't happened before, and it had started well before the Phlegathon had begun to get the better of him. Nothing in Tartarus seemed to have triggered it, either. The evolution of pain had nearly cost him the battle with the Hydra, and eventually it crossed over into feeling unbearable once he'd reached the fountain chamber of Elysium. That's when it starts to feel like the business end of Stygius is prodding repeatedly at his lungs. 

Zagreus stops before the fountain to curb a sudden fit of agonized coughing. The act forces something out, and when he pulls his hand away from his mouth to find a single bloodstained rose petal, it raises more questions than it answers. It bears more than a passing resemblance to Aphrodite's keepsake, only it is a dusky purple, nearly black. It sits neatly in the palm of his hand, and he might have thought it was pretty if it wasn’t drowning in roughly a mouthful of blood.

Instead, Zagreus stares at the petal, stunned. He swipes the back of his other hand across his mouth and it comes away red — which doesn't make any sense, given that he's not on the surface yet. Even a death by natural causes doesn't feel like this. That gradual, overall decline comes from simply existing in a realm that he doesn’t belong to, and it brings a feeling that builds in intensity and discomfort until it sends him promptly and painfully back to the House. This, on the other hand —

This is new. New and disturbing. And, blood and darkness, it  _ hurts _ .

"That's... probably not good," he breathes — and a second coughing fit descends swiftly, bad enough that it sends him to his hands and knees. Stygius slips from his hand and he grips the edge of the fountain, staining the stone red where his bloodied fingers dig in. The shining Elysium earth beneath him turns dark and slick. Each petal's gentle fall from his damaged throat makes his vision spin faster and his limbs grow heavy. He can barely breathe around the sharpened pain and the flowers, and gasps for breath in the Underworld's eerie stillness. 

It’s startling how fast it progresses, how swiftly death approaches after the first rose petal appears. He’s fairly certain by now that it  _ is  _ another death, because every time he's seen this much of his blood spilled has ended similarly. Even knowing that, and the fact that Zagreus has already experienced most ways to die in the Underworld, he decides that choking on blood and roses ranks solidly high as one of the worst -- mostly because he has no idea why it’s happening. The Styx will claim him like it always does, but this time is a slow, agonizing affair, and the river takes its sweet time. He collapses against the cool ground, still hacking red and petals around every struggling breath. Elysium's eternal night sky spins above him.

_ What brought this on? _ His hazy mind wonders. The first petal taunts him from where it’s fallen opposite his face, shiny with blood.

It is a long time before he feels the familiar slipping of his consciousness, and with it, the beginning of the end. He welcomes it like the crest of a wave, and the Styx pulls him down once again in a way that he’s come to expect, into darkness and silence.

*** 

Dragging himself out of the river is routine at this point, but this time Zagreus takes notice of just how easily he breathes after waking up, how it no longer feels as though thorns grow in his lungs. He shakes the last drops of red water out of his hair and steps up, out of the pool. He presses one hand to his sternum and winces. 

"Don't want to repeat that one," he says to himself, and he begins to walk down the hall.

Hypnos startles awake at his approach, as usual. The god of sleep waves when he registers who it is. 

"Welcome back to the House of Hades, where death is our business! What got you this time?" Hypnos asks only a moment before checking the list in his hands. He pauses. Squints, for good measure. "... All it says is 'roses'. Got any more details for me?" 

Zagreus shrugs. "Not unless you're familiar with deaths that involve coughing them up?" 

Hypnos arches a brow. "You know what? I'm not, actually. I sort of figured you had fallen asleep in them or something and died of a thousand cuts. But I guess the list would have said so, right?" He looks at it again like it's a picture he can't make out. “Weird. If it happens again, maybe don’t let the roses kill you?”

"I'll try not to." It’s not the answer he was hoping for. It rarely is, with Hypnos, although in this case he actually did want to know more about what had killed him. The fact that he doesn’t know, for once, is odd.

"Anyway, you're all signed in. See you again soon!" 

Zagreus gives Hypnos a parting wave before heading further into the house. 

He has half a mind to ask around and find out what could have given way to this newest death, but he's not sure where to start. Achilles usually has insight into his troubles, or, failing that, some words of advice, but a quick glance down the west hall informs Zagreus that his mentor is out. Nyx may have an idea, if the affliction is of an Underworld nature. Or maybe the next time he's in Asphodel he can try to seek out Eurydice — an oak nymph like her might know something about natural afflictions. He could even ask Thanatos... if Than ever decides to show his face around again, after the last time they talked. 

Zagreus sighs. 

He shouldn't be bitter about how Thanatos has been acting, but he's always gone through life leading with his heart over his head, and neither are exactly easy to control. It's hard enough to know where he stands with Death Incarnate given the circumstances; it's even harder when Thanatos refuses to say anything about what he wants. The unspoken  _ thing  _ that has developed between them is one that Zagreus wishes he would just say out loud, for once — a touch of clarity would do them both good. It isn’t enough to keep giving Thanatos Ambrosia bottles and to hope for the best; he wants a straightforward yes or no, an open admittance that  _ yes, I like you too, Zagreus, let’s go down this path together, maybe we can hold hands while we do that. _ Failing that, he would even take a rejection. Either one would give him enough of an idea about Than's feelings to know how to continue.

Instead, the last time Zagreus had pushed him for an answer, Thanatos had fled. 

Styx, what a mess.

When he enters his bedchambers, he checks the Fates' prophecies. The carefully penned words contain no mentions of roses anywhere, and nothing has appeared since his last escape attempt. Maybe it was a singular occurrence and he can just brush it off to continue on his way. Stranger things have happened in the House of Hades.

His hand finds his throat again, recalling the way those thorns and petals had torn away at him. He'd be lying if he said it hadn't been unsettling.

"Just a one time thing," he tells himself. "I'll go out there again, and it'll be just like it always is."

***

It is not, in fact, a one time thing.

The roses don’t go away. They claim him repeatedly, whenever he isn’t lucky enough to be slain by an Underworld brute or at the mercy of the guardians of each level. The time it takes for the growing thorns in his chest to draw blood varies, and sometimes he can struggle all the way through Tartarus, Asphodel, and Elysium before life bleeds freely out of his damaged lungs in the Temple of Styx.

He checks and double-checks the Pact of Punishment, in case there are terms and conditions he missed on the first go. Nothing.

He holds each of his keepsakes and examines it, wondering if there's something more to them that's hurting him. None of them elicit a response.

He wonders briefly if he caught some strange surface-born illness, but any trips through Styx would have erased that, right?

None of his repeated deaths give him an answer, and Hypnos’s record always shows “roses” as the cause. Nothing more, nothing less.

It becomes an annoyance, more than anything. It’s far from the most tolerable of deaths — Zagreus has always been bad at waiting, and the slow decline of his health thanks to the roses can be unbearable. He would almost rather be killed by a stray Inferno-Bomb or a well-placed strike from a Brightsword, at this point. Other times, the piercing thorns claim him before he even reaches the Furies. The dusky violet petals taunt him each time he coughs one up, a constant ominous reminder of failure. And each time he dies, he pulls himself out of the Styx again, none the worse for wear, thinking maybe this time will be the last, and that he’ll be cured once he leaps out of the courtyard once again.

Every time, he’s proven wrong, and if the roses don’t kill him they still try their hardest.

Worse still, no one in the House seems to know what is causing it, or even what his mysterious affliction is. If Achilles’ concerned expression is anything to go by, it’s not something mortals deal with. Meg, when he catches her in the lounge one evening, just stares at him in confusion when he asks. Even Nyx doesn’t have an answer for him.

“This is something I have not heard of before, child,” she’d told him. Her demeanour is always somewhat unreadable, but Zagreus thinks he can detect worry in her subtle features. “If you have angered your relatives on Olympus, I would have believed their methods to be less subtle. But I encourage you to continue searching for the answer, if there is one, and I will pass on anything I learn of it to you.”

She's right. Or, at least, he thinks she is. He's faced the wrath of the Olympians and knows they're more prone to dishing out overt punishment. If he'd done something disrespectful, they probably would have shown him the error of his ways by now.

He asks Eurydice about it during one trip through Asphodel. To his dismay, she shakes her head in confusion when he tells her of his condition.

“I’ve never heard of anything like that, hon,” she says, head tilted as she thinks. “You're right when you say it sounds like some kind of godly curse, but I’m not sure who you could have angered to bring that on yourself. Would have to be a god, too; a nymph probably wouldn’t bother with all that unless you did something really awful.”

“In that case, I hope I haven’t done anything to offend you.” Zagreus tries for humour, but his tone is somewhat marred when he has to stop and cough up another petal. Eurydice winces when his hand comes away from his mouth coated in red.

“It definitely isn’t me. You’ve been nothing if not a gentleman, and I’m not really the vengeful type,” she says. “No one else knows what it could be?”

He shakes his head.

“Huh. Would’ve thought the Chthonic gods would know something more about death curses. Worth doing a little more digging, if you ask me. Especially if it keeps sending you to an early grave.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies. “Thanks, anyway.”

“You got it, hon.” She smiles. “I hope you find out what’s causing it.”

The persistent pain follows him up through Asphodel, and worsens once he crosses the threshold into Elysium. Zagreus can already tell it’s likely to kill him well before he reaches the champions, and takes a moment to mourn the fact that he probably won’t get the chance to take them on. He’s defied death three times already, and that leaves him with little other choice unless Patroclus happens to be nearby. He ignores the growing ache in his chest and continues on, prepared for another swift and ignoble death. Cutting down shades doesn’t manage to distract him from the pain either, and he takes a few unlucky hits in the first few chambers — attacks he should have been able to dodge, and likely would have if this stupid flower sickness wasn’t affecting him. Zagreus takes a moment after one particularly difficult battle to stop and lean against the nearest statue to recover. Stygius feels heavy in his hands.

“... Have to keep going,” he says aloud, and then coughs.

When he steps through the next chamber, a familiar tolling bell greets him, and despite the pain Zagreus perks up.

… or not. The instant Thanatos appears in front of him in a flash of greenish light, the pain in his chest worsens until it’s a stabbing, violent ache. Whether that’s due to the roses or to their last conversation, he can’t tell.

“I was just passing through —” Thanatos begins, and then stops when Zagreus violently coughs instead of greeting him back. It would be almost funny to watch him go from stoic to stunned and concerned so quickly if it were in any other situation. As it stands, Zagreus finds he doesn’t have the energy to laugh when sharp pain forces itself up his throat. He claps a hand over his mouth and tastes copper.

“What’s — Zagreus, are you okay?” Thanatos asks, floating closer.

"Doing just fine,” Zagreus gasps, and then spits a mouthful of blood. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Blood and darkness, what got you this time? How are you even still standing?”

“Shouldn’t you be able to answer that?” he replies, and then doubles over with a pained hiss. Dimly, he hears several Longspears begin an approach, and looks up in time to see Thanatos banish them all with a well-placed use of Death Sentence. Several waves of enemies fall to his scythe without Zagreus ever raising his own sword against them, and before long they’re the only ones left in the chamber.

Zagreus collapses and Thanatos follows him down, holding him upright as he chokes on his own blood. A particularly painful cough seems to dislodge an entire rose blossom, which he spits unceremoniously into his hand. Thanatos’s eyes go wide at the sight of it.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea what this is about?” Zagreus asks, and gestures to the flower, fully bloomed and dripping red.

“Obviously not!” Thanatos never panics, but Zagreus can tell when he’s worried, and whatever’s happening here definitely has him worried. That probably should make him more concerned, because if even the god of death doesn’t know what’s killing him, then who does?

“That’s too bad. I was sort of hoping you’d have an answer for me,” he says. Dizziness has started to set in, and he squeezes his eyes shut as another stabbing pain pulls the breath out of him. The flower falls from his hand. “Urgh… not going to last much longer this time.”

“This time? What do you mean,  _ this time _ ?” Thanatos’s grip on him tightens.

“I’ll catch you up back at the House,” he manages before he draws one last choked breath. "Sorry to worry you, Than."

He doesn't get to hear Thanatos's reply before the waters of the Styx pull him under once again.

***

Zagreus doesn’t think he’s ever seen Thanatos appear in the house looking so scattered. As he steps out of the Styx and into the hall, he watches the god of death snatch Hypnos’s list out of his hands and quickly scan through it, gold eyes flickering up and down the page. He must have come back just after Zagreus died to get here so fast. He hovers opposite Hypnos, staring down at the page as if daring it to try and hide the answer from him.

“— it? ‘Roses’, and nothing else?” He hears Thanatos demand.

“That’s what it says!” Hypnos provides unhelpfully.

“That can’t be the only thing that killed him. I saw it happen.”

“Oh yeah, he did say something a while back about coughing them up. Or something along those lines.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” Thanatos asks, still clutching the list, his golden eyes dangerously narrowed. If looks could kill, the Underworld would be down one god of sleep.

“You didn’t ask,” Hypnos points out.

Thanatos shoves the list back into his hands. At Zagreus’s approach he snaps to attention, and before he can do anything the god of death is upon him. One of Thanatos’s hands finds its way to his face while the other grabs for his shoulder.

“Whoa, Than, I missed you too, but —”

“What  _ was  _ that, Zagreus?” he demands. He tilts Zagreus’s face like he’s looking for evidence of what just happened, and his hand doesn’t drop even after he finds nothing. “You cough up a fountain of blood and roses and just decide that’s not anything worth mentioning?”

“It’s not like I’m a stranger to dying, at this point.”

“Not like that!” To his surprise Thanatos actually looks distraught, and it catches him off-guard — it takes a lot to ruffle him like this. He finally lets go. “How long has this been happening?”

Zagreus racks his brain. “Um… not sure, exactly. It’s been getting me every couple of escape attempts for a while.”

Thanatos shakes his head. “You’ve been dying semi-regularly to an illness like that and you just… don’t think anything of it. Don’t think to mention it to the god of death. That sounds about right.”

“Hey, I don’t need self-preservation when I just pop up back there, right?” He jabs a thumb back in the general direction of the Styx. Thanatos looks displeased. “Besides, I sort of thought… you knew? You’d think that was the kind of thing Death would know.”

To his credit, this time Thanatos doesn’t disappear the way he’s prone to. This time, he abruptly turns away and begins to float down towards his usual haunt in the west hall. Zagreus has to chase after him. It feels very undignified.

“Than, wait! I didn’t mean to doubt you —”

They round the corner and reach the spot that overlooks the Styx. It’s not exactly private, but it’s far enough away from the main hall enough for them to pretend like it is. Zagreus feels suddenly self-conscious under the intensity of Thanatos’s gaze.

It’s a long moment before either of them says anything.

“I didn’t know, you know.” He lowers himself until his feet touch the floor and they’re standing opposite each other. He avoids Zagreus’s gaze, choosing instead to stare out at the river of red beyond the balcony. He folds his arms. “And I don’t like this, whatever it is.”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. It’s annoying, sure, but it’s not like it’s the only thing that gets to kill me around here. Just another point on the list,” Zagreus replies, in what he hopes is a reassuring tone. Thanatos doesn’t look convinced, if the way his sullen gaze flickers back is any indication.

“I’ve still never heard of anything like this before.” Thanatos crosses his arms. “The roses just appear?”

“It’s more like… I think they take root and grow. Slowly.” His hand finds his chest again, just above his heartbeat. “And roses have thorns.”

"That sounds unpleasant."

Zagreus gives him a wry smile. "That's putting it mildly." The small attempt at humour fades quickly, and he falters. “Sorry you had to find out that way, though. You really don’t know why it’s happening?”

“If I did, I would have told you,” he says — he doesn’t snap, but his tone suggests it’s the obvious answer, which is definitely not what Zagreus would expect from him after their last conversation. “But I’ll find out what it is.”

“You don’t have to —” Zagreus begins, but Thanatos cuts him off with a look.

“Really? If you’re fine with dying in this incredibly  _ unpleasant  _ manner, I can leave you to it. That’s your choice. But do you think I like watching you choke and bleed out like that? Because I really don’t.”

“You’re already putting too much on the line for me, Than.”

“I swear, Zagreus, for someone who’s so quick to give, you don’t take favours easily enough.” Thanatos shakes his head, looking distinctly uneasy. “Look, I have to go. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“Than,  _ wait  _ —” He doesn’t get the chance when Thanatos gives him one last lingering look and then abruptly vanishes in a flash of green light. He wants to argue further, but the point he’s about to retaliate with becomes moot when a now-familiar twinge begins in his chest.

“Ugh, already?” he asks aloud, and coughs. A few flecks of red adorn his hand when he pulls it away. The beginnings of pain sit heavy below his heart and tangle themselves around his thoughts of Thanatos until he can’t separate them anymore. This purgatory of feelings they’re in does no favours to his current situation.

This has to end, one way. Either the roses kill him, or Thanatos’s indecision does.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hades fandom, and a huge THANK YOU to all the lovely responses I’ve received on this fic so far! I’ve had a blast reading your theories and I really hope this delivers. Thanks everyone for reading!  
> A couple notes: A few tags have been modified and added, including replacing “light angst” with just “angst” for, uh, reasons.  
> Huge shoutout to @ImaginationCubed for helping me with plot points, and for listening to me ramble despite not even being in the fandom, you’re a real one <3

Zagreus carefully considers the arrival of a Chaos gate, and wonders whether it's worth it to enter. The blood price paid upon entry isn't going to do him any long-term favours, and there's a decent chance that the boon he’ll receive is going to hurt more than help. Such is the way of primordial Chaos.

On the other hand, if the red-soaked rosebuds he'd coughed up in the previous room are any indication, he’s not going to last long anyway. That’s enough of an argument for him to shrug and accept the entrance, consequences be damned. He flinches when he reaches out and the portal draws blood, but it only stings for a moment before he’s transferred down into their realm. A void-filled sea laps gently at the platform on which he stands, an endless expanse of darkness pinpricked with stars.

_ You have returned _ , he’s greeted upon entry. As he approaches Chaos’s boon and reaches out, their godly presence makes itself known. Zagreus is never sure whether or not it’s his imagination acting up, but the shifting darkness beyond what he can see seems to watch as he steps forward. If Chaos is truly there in the dark, they don’t reveal themself. Where Nyx is somewhat unreadable, he can at least talk to her face-to-face. He has to discern Chaos’s mood by tone alone.

_ I see you have already accepted boons from the others on Olympus, but the affliction you labour under is not one. Nor is it a remnant of your father’s Pact. When did you receive a sentence such as this, Son of Hades?  _ And then, after a moment’s hesitation;  _ respond _ .

“Wait, you can see what’s hurting me?” Zagreus asks, eyes widening. “These flowers keep killing me — they keep choking me out before I can reach the surface. Roses. It started happening a little while ago, but I don’t know what’s been causing it. Do you?”

_ Is this the reason you have not come to my realm as of late? I have extended several invitations to you on your various escape attempts. _

“That’s mostly it.” The slow bleed of life into death doesn’t often leave him with enough in his veins to offer a sacrifice to Chaos these days.

_ It seems in this case that you are a victim of circumstance. _

That definitely only raises more questions. Zagreus frowns. “Circumstance?”

_ It will interest you to know that it is not dissimilar in nature to my own gifts. There is a price to be paid and pain to endure, sometimes repeatedly — but I sense an eventual end. There is something to be gained in your suffering. It is entangled within you, Son of Hades, but can be undone as the threads of Fate are. You may count that as a blessing. _

“Not permanent, can be undone, will get me a reward. All right, I guess that’s as good an answer as any.” Zagreus reaches out again. “I’m ready to choose.”

_ As expected. Then, how shall we change the course of your life today? _

The boon grants him extra life at the cost of a temporarily reduced cast, but he takes it all the same — more vitality can’t hurt for the time being. He’s deposited swiftly from the gate into Asphodel and greets the fiery hellscape with newfound purpose. It still frustrates him to not know the cause of his mystery illness, but knowing that it will come to an end eventually is an encouragement. Getting a clearer answer from Chaos isn’t exactly expected, after all. From experience, he knows Chaos doesn’t lie; whether or not they’re telling him everything they know is something else entirely. He cuts through swaths of Spreaders and carves a violent path up towards the Bone Hydra the way he’s done dozens of times, racing against the clock he knows is surely ticking away the minutes of life he has in his lungs.

A familiar bell tolls just before he reaches the final stretch of Asphodel, and Zagreus watches Thanatos appear in shifting shades of grey and green.

He doesn’t say anything — not even a half-hearted excuse for popping in unannounced. When Zagreus stares back, he seems to falter, like he isn’t sure what to say.

“Am I to expect by now that you were ‘just in the area’, or…?”

Thanatos averts his gaze, but he does drift closer. He looks back with an expression that betrays unease.

“I came to check in on you,” he finally says. “Are you doing okay?”

The hesitant words wrap themselves around Zagreus’s heart and squeeze.

“Doing all right, considering the circumstances,” he replies, and holds back a cough as another petal threatens to appear. It’s the strangest thing, the way his condition worsens as soon as Thanatos appears.

He shifts his scythe from one hand to the other. “Look, I’ll clear the room for you again, if you want — if that will make things easier —”

Zagreus grins. ‘When have I ever wanted to make things easier? You know I like a challenge.”

After a moment of stunned hesitation, Thanatos offers him a smile in return.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Zagreus throws himself into the battle the instant the first undead dares to show their face. Stygius connects solidly with the Bloodless in his path and cleaves them where they stand, their brittle bones turned to dust beneath his blade. He hears Thanatos call out an attack and watches as a wave of wretches fall to phantom scythes, but he knows Than’s tactics by now and knows how to win. As long as he doesn’t linger, he can take this victory. He slices through enemies with reinvigorated strength until there are no more, and when he stands back and takes a relieved breath it’s the easiest one he’s taken in a long time.

There’s a new lightness in his chest, a momentary break from the pain that had followed him from the depths of Tartarus to where he stands now, before Thanatos.

He hands over the centaur heart without hesitation, and for a moment Zagreus dares to hope that he’ll say something. Dares to hope that Thanatos realizes they’ve danced around whatever this is for too long. He hovers before Zagreus, watching him with consideration. A myriad of emotion crosses his solemn face.

“Go on,” Thanatos simply says, and then disappears. An encouragement, maybe. It’s definitely not an invitation for him to respond.

Not that he could, anyway. The pain prickling in Zagreus’s throat makes itself known, and the rose petals he coughs up in a splatter of red only call more attention to it. His heart stings like it’s been punctured by one of Coronacht’s arrows. He’s alone in the fringes of Asphodel, dying slowly, and the sound of his ragged breathing is desolate and discouraged.

Go on to where? Go on to his next death by roses?

Zagreus throws himself into the ensuing fights with violent fervour, and when he emerges from the Bone Hydra’s chamber victorious, albeit wounded, he finally takes a moment to process the exchange. Thanatos’s hesitation hurts, no matter how much he doesn’t want it to. The persistent, blooming pain behind his heart harmonizes with it.

This has to end, one way or another..

***

Even knowing the nature of his curse isn’t enough to keep it at bay. Zagreus fights on, makes the journey up through the Underworld, and he dies. Repeatedly, painfully, choking on blood and roses in a manner of death that is no less disquieting even as it happens more and more.

It seems also that Thanatos hasn’t had any luck finding out anything about the flowers, and Zagreus can tell he’s frustrated. He won’t deny that it’s not a pleasant experience to repeat, but if even Death doesn’t know why it’s happening, he doesn’t think it’s particularly worth it for him to keep searching. Thanatos has always been fairly single-minded in his efforts, though. For all it’s worth, Zagreus does appreciate the effort. And somehow, through this odd affliction, they manage to find time to figure things out, somehow. It makes sense; time is the one commodity they do have in abundant supply.

There’s more Ambrosia exchanged. More conversation. It feels like they’re dangling dangerously over the cliffs of Asphodel sometimes, like they’re about to drop into something new and exciting together, but they cling to the edge by mere fingertips. There’s tension there, but it feels like potential, too.

_ I never really know exactly where I stand with you. But I know how I feel, and I’d rather be up front about it with you, even if it means risking our relationship, such as it is. _

_ You’re saying that you care for me, and… what, exactly, Zagreus? _

_ That maybe we ought to take our time. You know where to find me. _

Zagreus sticks to his word about waiting. He still tries for the surface, still dies along the way, and still contends with the aftermath of roses taking root around his heart. But somewhere along the way, Thanatos eases up.

There are more moments among the strife where things feel clearer. The times when Zagreus catches Thanatos’s smile while they’re fighting side-by-side, or when he hesitates for a moment too long before leaving to go collect some poor mortal’s soul. When he stands close enough for Zagreus to notice the subtle golden flush on Thanatos’s face and the fondness he hides beneath a prickly exterior.

Those moments ease the pain.

They come together one night in Zagreus’s room, and that’s when he knows. Zagreus has learned that Thanatos’s actions speak louder than his words, and because of that, the moment they share where Thanatos stands before him and tells him they don’t have to wait anymore, is the closest thing he thinks Than will ever come to an outright confession. His gentle touch, the warmth of his skin, the laugh Zagreus feels more than hears because it’s so  _ soft  _ and so kind while they unmake his bed — any of those could say what he’s thinking, as good as a spoken word.

_ Don’t take my silence the wrong way, alright? _

Zagreus decides to try not to, even though a small part of him still wants to hear the answer.

After that, nothing changes aside from the added bonus of gentle affection during Zagreus’s escape attempts and a growing ease that yes, this is real, and yes, this is good. When Thanatos finds him in the rising levels of the Underworld he smiles more, reveling in their secret that isn’t  _ really  _ a secret, because enough people have come to their own conclusions after seeing them together. Zagreus steals kisses from him in the aftermath of battle, although it isn’t really stealing, because Thanatos readily gives them. Their moments are short, but so sweet.

The roses don’t go away, but Zagreus gradually notices that they’ve weakened. Maybe he’s finally starting to get over this mystery affliction.

Thanatos finds him one day or night in Elysium, wounded and dying slowly, but still upright and still determined to make it to the next room and beyond. Zagreus doesn’t say anything as the bell tolls and Death approaches — he doesn’t have to. He just leans on the nearest statue and watches him appear.

“How many times do I have to offer to clear the room before you finally take me up on it?”

Zagreus smiles. He breathes more easily in Thanatos’s presence even as roses inevitably bloom in his chest. “I doubt you’d be able to count. Or want to.”

“You’ll live longer if I do, you know.” Thanatos tilts his head. “But then again, you’ve always been stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, stop rewarding me for it. Maybe then I’ll do it.” Zagreus props Stygius casually on his shoulder. “Let’s get to it. I have enough in me to give Theseus at least one good smack before I inevitably die.”

Thanatos laughs quietly. “Gods, I adore you.”

Elysium has never been so quiet, and Zagreus has never been struck so silent by words alone.

Thanatos’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he says, a single stunned syllable. “ _ Oh _ , Zagreus, I — that was— ” One hand comes up to hide his face. “— that wasn’t how I wanted to say that.”

Zagreus’s heart pounds. “But… you did want to? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“I — yes, I did,” he admits. One eye peeks out from between his fingers. “It’s not as though you didn’t know that, after everything.”

“Yeah, but hearing you  _ say  _ it is different.” And it really is, because Thanatos is clearly still trying to learn how to speak Zagreus’s language, and even if most of the time it’s intentional, this slipup is endearing.

Thanatos looks like he’s bracing himself, and then he drops his hand from his face and clenches it into a fist. His face is still flushed gold, and his teeth worry his bottom lip for a moment before he speaks;

“Well, in that case… it’s the truth, Zagreus. I love you.”

The burst of lightness around his caught breath makes him feel as though he could fly, as though he could float away if the only thing tethering him to the earth wasn’t Thanatos’s honest words.

“I love you too, Than.”

Thanatos offers a shy smile in the silence that follows, and  _ oh _ , Zagreus has never more wanted to leap forward and pull him into an excited kiss.

Until sharp pain, the worst he’s ever felt from the roses, feels as though it drives a thorn directly into his heart.

It knocks the breath right out of him, and Zagreus immediately folds. His fall is slowed when Thanatos rushes forward to catch him — gods, has he always been that quick? — and he dimly registers that Thanatos is speaking to him, too quickly and too panicked for him to make out the words entirely. All of his attention is taken by the rush of blood from his damaged throat and the agony in his lungs. He coughs and red stains the ground like spilled ink on parchment.

Thanatos holds him tightly, one hand thrown across his chest and the other across his shoulders, so he faces the ground while he kneels. Every cough tears more pain out of his damaged lungs until it feels like a fire is alight in his chest. Black spots begin to overtake his vision. It occurs to him in that moment that there could always be a time for the Styx to hold on to his soul rather than gently return it to the afterlife, and suddenly it feels as though there’s terrifying finality to what’s happening.

_ I was wrong _ , he thinks hazily.

He coughs more violently, and spits, and then suddenly _gasps_ as something is dislodged — and the next breath he takes isn’t stopped by anything. When his vision clears, there’s a mess of red before him — blood and petals, crimson instead of the dark purple he’d become accustomed to. The rose, far larger and more complete than the others, glistens in the low light of Elysium, and the two gods stare at it in disbelief.

Thanatos seems to remember after a breathless moment that he’s still tightly holding Zagreus, and helps him to sit back in the grass.

“Zagreus, are you okay?” He keeps one hand on the small of his back.

“I — I think so?” he says, and coughs one final time. Thanatos looks alarmed, but when all that he catches is a single blood-red petal and a few stray specks of red, he minutely untenses.

“Are you sure?”

Zagreus considers, but he doesn’t have to for long. The contrast between breathing around roses and their absence is so stark, it feels almost wrong. It’s been a long time since he was able to do so freely. “I am.”

“Blood and darkness, that was even worse than the other time,” Thanatos breathes. Then he moves, and Zagreus finds himself gently pulled into Death’s embrace. His head rests on Thanatos’s chest, tucked beneath his chin, and he falls into it, leaning on Thanatos with no effort to keep himself upright any longer. Zagreus closes his eyes for a moment and just breathes, steadying his heart and reveling in the easy motions. Exhale, inhale, repeat. 

No roses.

“I thought that was going to be it, for a moment,” he admits, and he feels Thanatos tense. The arms around him tighten their hold. “I don’t know why, but I did.”

“You faded a bit,” Thanatos murmurs. “Your soul did, I mean. It scared me.”

“Don’t be scared. Still here,” he reassures. His eyes flutter open to see Thanatos watching him closely. A concerned line appears in his brow and his gold eyes are still wide in a perfect picture of worry.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says quietly.

“Not planning on it,” Zagreus promises.

Neither god pays further attention to the red rose, and as a result, neither of them notice when it’s pulled down into the earth by a rising puddle of dark, jeweled waters, until it disappears entirely.

***

Zagreus has a dozen following escapes without the reappearance of flowers, and dares to believe the whole thing has ended.

He stands in front of the display that contains his keepsakes and surveys them. Any one of them could grant him the favour he needs to survive Elysium at this point and he considers them carefully, even taking a few out to weigh out his thoughts.

His hand brushes Aphrodite’s Eternal Rose, a keepsake he’s used to gain her favour in dozens of runs. The thought of taking it along plays through his mind before he runs his thumb along one of the petals, and then he freezes.

Entangled within, but could be undone. Suffering that led to reward. That was what Chaos had said about the roses that had been killing him — roses that had disappeared after he had coughed up the strange red rose. The one that, coincidentally, closest resembled the goddess of love’s keepsake.

Had the answer been right there all along?

He takes her keepsake.

After the incident, Thanatos’s visits had grown in frequency, something Zagreus hadn’t complained about in the slightest. The familiar bell tolls in Elysium, but this time he hesitates when he sees Zagreus. 

“What’s going on, Zag? You’ve got a strange look on your face.”

He holds up the keepsake. “I think I have a theory about some of my more recent deaths. But it just means I’ll have to keep trying for the surface, because I can’t ask lovely Aphrodite while I’m down here.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’s your theory?”

“The roses stopped after the red one — and after you said you felt the same about me.” He extends his hand to Thanatos in offering, the rose nestled in his palm.

That gets his attention. His gaze flickers between Zagreus and the rose — such a small, innocuous object, so similar to the bloodied roses that had killed him endlessly. “You think she — ?”

“Chaos never said my affliction wasn’t from the Olympians. But I have a feeling there’s something more about why it stopped.” Zagreus allows Thanatos to take the rose from his hand and look over it curiously. “I don’t know. If I ever get to Olympus, it might be worth asking about.”

Thanatos nods. Then he casts his gaze aside, to Zagreus’s surprise, and looks somewhat morose. “If I’d known that a confession would have ended that chain of death for you, I would have said something sooner.”

“Hey, no, Than — look at me.” He reaches out to cradle Thanatos’s face, guiding his attention gently back to him. “You never would’ve had to. I won’t lie and say I didn’t want you to say it, but I wanted you to get there comfortably. The right way.” He smiles. “I’m trying not to take your silence the wrong way, remember?”

“Easier for you to say now that you aren’t dying all the time,” he says, leaning into the touch.

“Hey, I’m definitely still dying all the time,” he says, and to his relief, Thanatos cracks a smile. “Not dying to roses is nice, but I can only do so much.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

"Besides," he adds. "I liked how it happened, apart from the red rose. It felt genuine."

"It  _ was _ genuine. You — " Thanatos shakes his head, but the smile doesn't leave his face. He leans forward until their foreheads touch. "You’re ridiculous. Sometimes the things you say just bring it out of me.”

That makes warmth bloom in his chest — a far cry from the memories of pain, of roses and thorns beneath his heart.

Thanatos still holds the Eternal Rose, and rolls it gently between his fingers. He hesitates for a moment before he speaks; “Can I borrow this for a while?”

“The rose? Sure, I don’t mind. Aphrodite already gave me a boon.” He tilts his head in curiosity. “What do you need it for?”

“I want to ask Mother Nyx about it, if that’s alright?”

“Oh. Sure. She didn’t have an answer for me before when I asked about the roses, but maybe she’d know more about the keepsake.” Zagreus leans in to brush Thanatos’s nose with his. “See you at home?”

Thanatos smiles and returns the gesture. “See you at home,” he says before pressing a goodbye kiss to his mouth. He disappears in a familiar green flash after a hesitant moment, leaving Zagreus alone in the chamber.

“Nowhere to go but up,” he says aloud, and makes for the exit.

***

Up in the high reaches of Olympus, in a temple chamber with a fountain dripping water that sparkles like stars, water that runs as deep as primordial Chaos itself, a single blood-red rose rises to the surface.

A hand reaches out to delicately stroke the velvety petals. A smile plays at the god’s mouth.

A bell tolls, and the room lights up in a flash of green in the instant before a second divine presence enters the room.

“Hello, Death,” the god greets him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Thanatos’s voice never rises, and he doesn't expect it will — and yet, he can already sense the barely-contained anger coming off the chthonic deity in rolling waves. It isn’t a false picture of serenity he paints, he really does have that level of control over his outward emotions, even if what lies beneath the surface is a tumultuous sea. In one hand, his scythe; in the other, a delicate rose trinket he’s well familiar with. Love and violence, together.

“You know why I’m here,” Thanatos says, deceptively calm.

“Do I?” His gaze flickers to the Eternal Rose. He steps away from the fountain and stretches slightly, shaking his wings out from where they’d been folded against his back. “Are you sure you aren’t looking for someone else?”

“Eros.” Death's gold eyes glint dangerously in the chamber’s soft light, like coins at the bottom of a dark well. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohohohohoh hehehehehehe
> 
> You may notice there has been a third chapter added. It won't be long, but I thought I would include it anyway. :3
> 
> I'm on twitter as espressopidge and on tumblr as cthoniccompanion, if you want to hear me ramble more about Hades and love languages.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again, Hades fandom!
> 
> Here's my latest project, brought on by my own curiosity and a lot of thanzag brainrot. I have no idea if anyone else in the fandom has written hanahaki for them yet, but I really wanted to explore how that could be different from a typical hanahaki fic because of the canonverse concepts of death. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This fic's timeline takes place after you give Than the second Ambrosia bottle.
> 
> I'm around to chat on tumblr (@cthoniccompanion) and twitter (@espressopidge), come say hi :3


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